 | Uncollected verses by Francis Thompson |  |
7
[“I know this lady with eyes unholy]
“I know this lady with eyes unholy,I know this lady that is not woman;
By her I know this garden real;
A child in a new house, shy and lowly,
I see my mother, and doubt turns vain.
Scarce I guessed were this dream in dreaming,
If ye were human or I were human,
Amid your blossoms which seem to be all
But a seeming within a seeming
To me who have walked in the soul's land solely,
To me whose garden had tears for rain;
To me who ken but the flowers ideal,
The asphodel and the changeless moly.
This lady I know, and she is real,
I know this lady, and she is Pain!”
| Uncollected verses by Francis Thompson | |